


Baby's First Fever

by fckyeahgallavich



Series: Requests/Prompts [12]
Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Parent Ian Gallagher, Parent Mickey Milkovich, Parenthood, Sick baby, Sickfic, baby's first fever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-20 21:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fckyeahgallavich/pseuds/fckyeahgallavich
Summary: How will the new dads fare with their twins' first fevers?
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Requests/Prompts [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/878244
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	Baby's First Fever

A piercing cry in the night rattled Mickey's brain, demanding he get up. But with one piercing cry, there was bound to be another.

" _ Fuckkkk!"  _ Mickey groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Ian get up! Quick, before they wake the other one!" Mickey demanded sharply, tugging on his sweats before sliding their door open and racing to Debbie's old room where his little boy was currently screeching. Ian was approximately five footsteps behind, scooping up their daughter as Mickey cradled their son to his chest. At only four months old, Mickey was still afraid of not supporting their necks enough, but at this moment, his main concern was definitely the intense heat radiating off the screaming infant's body.

"Oh God!" Mickey breathed, damn near crying himself. Ian looked up to face Mickey in question. "Ian... Ian he's burning  _ the fuck up!"  _ Mickey pressed his cheek against the top of his son's head -- to comfort himself more than Ivan who continued screaming into Mickey's neck.

"Fuck... fuck..." He murmured to himself as Ian shuffled over to feel.

"Oh my God!" Ian echoed. 

"Shit," Mickey whimpered, fear and worry sending his voice up an entire octave.

"Hospital?" Mickey asked. Ian thought for a moment until suddenly Nadi started crying too.

"Fuck! Gotta get her away from him first!" Ian realized aloud. He darted out of the room leaving Mickey to settle their son and try, fucking  _ try  _ to reassure himself that they could somehow afford a doctor's visit if Ian determined they should go. Ivan shivered against Mickey's chest and he instinctually covered the baby's back with his other hand. 

He recognized one less scream and once again silently marveled at how fucking great Ian was with their children -- and in this specific instance, thanked God for it.

But this time he wouldn't rhetorically demand  _ How'd you do that?!  _ This time he passed Ivan over to his husband and said nothing more.

"What's up buddy? Huh?" Ian asked the infant in his baby talk. "What has got you all flustered here tonight?" How Ian could stay so calm was beyond anything Mickey could understand. How the Hell did this man stay so calm when their child was practically the Human Torch?! EMT shit was different from something like this... Or maybe it wasn't all that different. Mickey didn't the fuck know but either way, Ian kept his cool as he felt their son's head, massaged around the back of his head and tummy. Finally, Ian sighed.

"Could be anything, Mick. Do we have a thermometer?" He knew what Ian was doing... Giving him a job to do so that he'd stop pushing out the nauseatingly strong anxious vibes that he was no doubt sending into the room. There was no doubt that Mickey's nerves were palpable because just his leaving sent the kid's screams down a level. It didn't feel good.... having your absence be calming. But he couldn't help his panic!

////

Mickey was fucking. losing it. And though Ian couldn't blame him, the freak out was not helping at all. So it was best to find things for Mickey to do to help than let him stand there and stew waiting for Ian to somehow save the day. Ian had worked with  _ very  _ few babies because there hadn't been so many infant emergencies and for those that there were they weren't fevers! Very few people called an ambulance for a fucking fever. Still, what little he knew was telling him to treat the fever until they knew how high it was.

In his arms, Ivan struggled and cried and cried and cried and Ian was damn near ready to cry himself because... God he'd never known the desire to take someone else's pain away so badly -- Well, aside from when Mickey was in pain but those moments were probably tied right now. And for all they knew this was a fuckin ear infection.

"Ivan, baby," Ian cooed into the crown of his son's head. "Ivan, what's wrong? You're always such a quiet baby, you been storing up these screams for just such an occasion?" 

Mickey returned with a thermometer and Ian was honestly amazed.

"Wait, we actually had one?" Ian asked, shocked.

"You'd send me to look for one in  _ your  _ house without knowing if you had one?" Mickey shot back, confused. Ian shrugged and accepted the thermometer. 

"Okayyy," Ian whispered. "First we gotta get at leeeeast the shoulder down so I can get this..." he worked the shoulder of Ivan's onesie down but as soon as he connected the thermometer's tip to the inside of the baby's armpit the poor thing started screaming more.

"Must be cold," Mickey murmured in sympathy." Ian nodded and turned to look at his husband.

"Check on Nadi?" Ian suggested. Mickey nodded, leaned forward, and pressed a quick kiss to Ian's lips before leaving the room.

It was an old-fashioned mercury and glass thermometer so Ian held it in place for a good five minutes before checking on it, wanting to get a clear and accurate read. Ivan, of course, struggled the whole time and cried and screamed. Ian had shut off his emotional responses, and it was a good thing because all he wanted to do right now was cry right along with his baby for the discomfort he was in and for causing his son extra discomfort. He wanted to just  _ take  _ whatever it was that was torturing his baby and tear it to shreds, or Hell, even take it on himself if he had to.

At last Ian was certain enough time had passed for an accurate read... 101, almost 102.

"Mickey!" Ian called, voice cracking to finally show his worry. He discarded the thermometer and wrestled with Ivan to run his arm back through the sleeve of his onesie. Mickey appeared in an instant and helped with the sleeve. Before he could even ask, Ian blurted out "almost 102."

"Fuck!" Mickey cried, echoing Ian's internal voice. As always, Mickey leaped into action, rushing from the room, leaving Ian to pick up their son to follow, trying to figure out what exactly was going through his husband's mind.

"Wait, why don't you just wait here with Nadi--why are you getting her car seat too?" Ian froze in the hallway at Mickey holding both plastic contraptions in each hand.

"Why wouldn't we bring Nadi?"

"There's no need to drag her out! That's just putting her at risk of picking up something from the ER then we're gonna have to go back tomorrow night." Mickey rolled his eyes and gently set Ivan's seat down, entering their bedroom to proceed with his plan.

"If Ivan's got an infection she's not far behind," Mickey announced confidently. Ian schooled his expression before entering their bedroom, just as Ivan started screaming again mind you.

"You know that's not how infections work, right Mickey?"

"They've spent every single second together since they were born, sharing complimenting  _ diaper rashes  _ since day one. You think if Ivan's got an ear infection or some shit that Nadiya's not far behind?" Ian shrugged because that did make sense, and yet...

"She's fine though. If she ends up getting something we'll take her then, but I'm telling you infections aren't contagious --"

"Neither are diaper rashes, Ian, thanks for reiterating my point." Ian sighed, closing his eyes to gather his patience. Mickey was panicked, he knew that was all this was but it didn't make it easy to keep his patience when he was also going through the same emotions.

" _ My  _ point being, if she doesn't have anything there's no point in bringing her because they're not going to give her antibiotics for some proactive measure!" Nadi started fussing as Mickey finished buckling her into the car seat which only made her brother start fussing more. They really were  _ always  _ on the same page.

"And if  _ you _ think you're going to deal with our kid's first fever without me, you're batshit," Mickey announced simply, standing straight to deliver his final point to Ian's face. They stared at each other for a long moment until Ivan started screaming again, breaking them out of their contest of wills.

"Fine," Ian murmured. "But if she catches something contagious I'm blamin you," Ian shot.

"And when it turns out she's got the same exact fuckin thing that Ivan's got, I'm takin your EMT badge," Mickey shot back.

/////

The ER took  _ forever.  _

Nadi slept soundly in her car seat while Ian and Mickey took turns keeping Ivan quiet. The poor thing was so distressed, though, that he could only keep quiet for a minute at a time every fifteen minutes or so before he'd build up the lungs for more crying. 

There was a clear, sharp circle drawn around the Gallagher-Milkovich family by other people needing a doctor. Many of the people closest to them, and even some who were clear across the ER waiting room, glared at them as though the men weren't doing everything in their power to keep their son quiet. It was Mickey's turn to hold him, but one specific lady directly across from them was having a particularly difficult time keeping her judgement to herself, so he passed their infant back to Ian and stood.

"Mickey?" Ian asked, accepting Ivan and cradling him back to his chest where he'd just been just seconds before. Mickey had tried glaring back, raising his brows at her, even waving curtly to try to alert her to how rude she was being--none of his efforts worked, so here they were.

"Lady, do we have a problem?" Mickey asked as soon as he was standing.

"Excuse me?" The lady's glare cleared away but Mickey could see past her fake concern and innocence.

"Mickey, don't," Ian sighed, working around a squirming Ivan to try pulling Mickey back into his seat.

"What you see here is a  _ baby,  _ an  _ infant,  _ who is  _ clearly  _ struggling with some sort of problem, or else we wouldn't be here," he explained slowly. The hardness returned to her gaze and he knew he had her. No resting bitch face defense from this bitch. "Guess what babies do when they've got some sort of problem? They fuckin  _ cry!"  _ He hissed just barely below the level of yelling. Ian rocked their son and watched his husband in awe. "My husband and I are doing  _ everything  _ we can to keep him quiet for  _ our  _ sakes, much less yours. But I swear to Christ, if you glare at us one more time, I'm gonna let you see how much better  _ you  _ can do and see how good it feels to have it  _ right there  _ in your  _ fucking face  _ with people glarin at  _ you."  _ The lady's eyes were way wider than her consistent glares had led to believe possible. "We understand each other?" Mickey asked with mock sweetness. The lady nodded and Mickey gave her a single, curt nod in return before stepping back to his seat where he took his son back, cradling the infant to his chest and shushing him gently.

The gesture was more to calm himself than their son, and they both knew it, but Ivan did settle for a moment and cuddled into his father's neck. It was almost as though his son was telling him "thanks for sticking up for me, Daddy. That lady was a bitch."

"Well said," Ian murmured. Mickey turned to him and smiled wryly.

"I just couldn't take it anymore," he breathed, eyes returning to the baby in his arms.

"I know, I wasn't far behind you, I just didn't figure it'd make it any better," Ian murmured in return.

"It was gonna do  _ somethin. I _ t was either that or they could go outside and wait in the fuckin 40 degree entryway like they seem to expect me to do with our  _ sick kid _ ." Ian rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement, knowing Mickey wasn't exaggerating. He really would tell them to go do just that if it got any worse. The lady glared at them one more time, Ian supposed from hearing them bashing her, and she got up to face a different direction.

"They really do expect us to do that, huh?" Ian laughed. Mickey nodded.

"Expect us to be fuckin bashful or some shit--well fuck that."

Ivan pushed back against his father's chest, eyes wide and bright as he took in his surroundings, suddenly fascinated. His bright blue eyes whizzed as his head bobbled trying to take in everything. Ian watched with a broad smile on his face, delighted by his son's sudden curiosity. But the little face crumpled again and his little fist swung, lightly hitting himself in the cheek, this was a gesture Mickey had pointed out back at the house before they left for the ER, but now Ian was starting to wonder if it was his cheek he was hitting... or his ear.

"Hey, Mick.... You notice him tugging on his ear or anything tonight?" Mickey was currently working to wrangle the fussy child into a secure hold, finally cradling him back against his neck where both their children liked to rest the most, and with the child finally secure he stopped to think.

"Now that you mention it, yeah, he kept tugging at it during dinner tonight. I thought he was just playin with it for shits," Mickey admitted. Ian nodded.

"It's an ear infection, I'm almost certain."

"The  _ fever _ , Ian," Mickey murmured worriedly. Ian sighed and nodded.

"I know..." He understood why his husband was still so concerned despite Ian's certainty that it was simply an ear infection--totally treatable and normal for babies. He kissed his husband chastely and asked if he wanted coffee, but Mickey shook his head.

"I just want to know what's wrong with him." Mickey tightened his hold around the whining child just the teeniest bit, a gesture to give and bring comfort. Ian ran his fingers through Mickey's hair since he couldn't take his husband's hand and promised that Ivan was fine and was going to be fine in a couple of days.

"I'm betting you now it's an ear infection. We could treat that at home." Mickey rest his cheek against the crown of his son's head and gazed worriedly at Ian and Ian slid back into his chair, knowing that Mickey would not be satisfied until a doctor told them it would go away without antibiotics.

They were finally called twenty minutes later where, in a matter of twenty minutes, the doctor determined it was indeed a simple ear infection. So simple that antibiotics were not going to do any good.

“Guess I get to keep my EMT badge, huh?” Ian murmured and Mickey sneered at him playfully before sinking back into seriousness.

“So, what can we do for him?” Mickey asked.

“Time, fluids, and some heat to ease the ache is all you can do for him, I’m afraid,” the nice doctor murmured, running a big hand across Ivan’s head. Mickey shifted ever so slightly to pull his son out of the man’s touch and grunted a half-cough to make it seem like more of a casual shifting.

They returned home, exhausted and dejected. Exhausted from lack of sleep and the knowledge that they were unlikely to get much more, and dejected because there was hardly anything for them to do to help their son who was still crying from the intense discomfort.

Ian placed Nadi in her usual crib, kissing her lightly on the forehead before returning to his and Mickey’s bedroom where Mickey was propped up against their headboard with their son cradled on his chest. The infected ear was pressed to Mickey’s chest and that seemed to be somewhat helpful because it seemed that each time Ivan laid his head like that his cries stifled. Mickey whispered to their son, apologies and well-wishes, promises to help him feel better as soon as possible.

“Doc said fluids,” Ian sighed, stretching his back as he spoke. “So I guess I better get that fancy baby water shit — don’t wanna poison him with tap water on top of the ear infection.” Mickey didn’t laugh at the joke, simply nodded and kept his eyes fixed on Ivan. 

“Mick?” Mickey didn’t budge for a long moment, keeping his attention wholly on the infant dozing on his chest. Finally he looked up at his husband, eyes swimming with concern and empathy for their son. “He’s gonna be okay, alright?” Mickey nodded and looked away. Ian sighed and, careful to not jostle either his husband or baby, leaned in to kiss the top of Mickey’s head, promising in hushed tone to return soon.

…..

When Ian did return with the purified water and fresh wash cloths for heat pads, his boys were sleeping soundly. At some point Mickey had taken off his pants and tee shirt so he was wearing his undershirt and boxers. Ivan slept, hurt hear pressed against Mickey’s tank top, soundly on Mickey’s chest with Mickey’s hands curled securely around Ivan’s torso and cupped over his bottom half to hold him securely in place.

Ian presence, however, woke the baby and he rushed forward to collect him from Mickey’s chest before his fussiness woke up the other father. Mickey’s hands tightened around Ivan’s little body and his brows furrowed in sleepy concern.

“It’s just me, Mick, I got him,” Ian whispered in a promise. 

“Ian?” Mickey murmured groggily.

“Yeah, I got him, okay?” Mickey stopped resisting as Ian carefully pried the half-asleep infant from his position on Mickey’s chest, quickly shifting him so he rest on Ian’s chest next.

For the next hour, Ian nursed Ivan with pure water and when he started screaming again, he prepared a homemade heat pad of warmed rice in a washcloth which he gingerly pressed to the back of Ivan’s ear. He cooed and whispered to him stories that Monica used to tell him…. Fairy tales and random funny stories about him and Mickey. That was something he and Mickey had discussed while Debbie was still pregnant with the twins: they wanted to be open with their children, wanted them to grow up  _ knowing  _ their fathers inside and out. So they’d agreed months ago to tell them how they got together and tell them stories (age appropriate, of course). So that’s what Ian did… told their son stories of his and Mickey’s tumultuous past as though it were a fairy-tale.

He carried Ivan back to bed about an hour later and was preparing to get to sleep himself but made a quick stop at his daughter’s crib where the little girl was whining in sleep.

He brushed his fingertips against her forehead and paused.

_ Son of a bitch…  _ Ian owed Mickey his badge.


End file.
